


You've Heard of Elf on a Shelf, Now Get Ready for Wife with a Knife

by treztine



Series: set our hearts ablaze [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, F/F, Future Fic, Knifeplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treztine/pseuds/treztine
Summary: There was plenty of ribbon left over to adorn what the Warrior humbly claimed was the greatest present of all Starlights, both future and past. Wrappingherselfin what felt like a malm of satin, however, was easier imagined than done.(It's tacky holiday themed knifeplay, don't @ me)
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur/Original Character(s), Alisaie Leveilleur/Warrior of Light
Series: set our hearts ablaze [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1399156
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	You've Heard of Elf on a Shelf, Now Get Ready for Wife with a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> sexual content ahead: light knifeplay (cutting away clothing, no blood or injury), fingering  
> takes place sometime in the future

Poppy wasn't sure what exactly it was that inspired her latest little scheme. It was most likely a symptom of the season, she later realized, given the festive nature of Starlight and the ample time she spent strewing about decorations and wrapping gifts. In particular, it always made her giddy to see so many boxes wrapped in papers that sparkled and shone, adorned in ribbons pulled taut and tied tight into grand bows.

While choosing treasures and packaging trinkets was always a delight, unwrapping them was just as much of a joy. The mystery, the surprise—it really was the perfect way to spend an evening, sat beneath a tree and beside a warm fire. But the best part, in Poppy's opinion, was the anticipation of watching a special someone unwrap a carefully chosen gift.

There was plenty of ribbon left over to adorn what she humbly claimed was the greatest present of all Starlights, both future and past. Wrapping _herself_ in what felt like a malm of satin, however, was easier imagined than done.

It took her far longer than she would ever care to admit. Bows were not so easy to tie with only two hands, lest of all behind one’s back or around one’s own wrists. But she managed, thanks in part to her dexterity and flexibility and her bullheaded stubbornness to boot. After a bell (or perhaps even two) of struggles, Poppy had wrangled her most perfect gift and stood before the full length mirror to take in her work in all her triumph.

Thick lengths of red satin edged in gold wrapped around her ankles and her thighs, curled around her body like crimson vines, circled her waist and neck and arms. Bows adorned her in various places, from the base of her tail to front of her breasts, and miraculously held the whole getup in place.

Poppy spun around, both to test the hold of her knots and to admire the way her skin peaked through. It was scant and suggestive and utterly _ridiculous_ —the perfect treat for her beloved to come home to. Alisaie would either box her ears off for such foolishness or perish laughing. Either way, Poppy grinned a conspiratory little grin to her reflection and then made her way to the tree, where she would wait beneath its glittering boughs to be torn apart, one way or another.

Lucky for her, she didn't have to await her judgment for very long. A key slid into the apartment’s lock and the door opened with an audible click. Poppy tensed in her spot sprawled on her belly beneath the tree, tail curling behind her with excitement and just a hint of nervousness.

“I'm home,” her beloved's voice rang through the hall.

“Welcome back,” Poppy called out in return, hardly able to contain her delight or the giggle that bubbled up behind the words. She swallowed it down to ask, “How was the market?”

“A madhouse,” Alisaie replied at once, sounding as annoyed as expected.

A bag thumped against the floor and boots were kicked off noisily amidst a sigh. Poppy smiled to herself and her heart began to thump wildly in her chest when she heard the quick and purposeful footsteps that echoed nearer with each breath that passed.

“It was as crowded as I anticipated given the upcoming holiday, but that didn’t make it any less—”

Whatever grievances Alisaie meant to air died in her throat before they even had the chance to touch her tongue. She froze on the precipice of the living room, mid-step in the hall, her eyes wide and mouth agape. For what felt like an eon, she didn't say a word, her eyes fixed on the tree and the peculiar sight that sat beneath it. Poppy had managed to accomplish the very rare feat of stunning Alisaie into silence.

“Poor thing,” Poppy cooed, her head lolling to the side from its place rested atop her folded hands. “You must be exhausted.”

She sat up, moving in a deliberate way that made it obvious she wore a length of ribbon and nothing else, and folded her hands again, neatly atop her lap and the satin bound there. She watched Alisaie and saw that the only part of her that moved was her eyes, shifting to follow each careful and languid movement of Poppy's trussed up frame.

“I know it's not quite Starlight yet, but—” Poppy paused for effect, fluttering her lashes, “want to open one of your gifts early?”

She pressed a hand to her chest and then gently tugged at the large bow tied there, as if the implication of _gift_ wasn't quite clear enough. Alisaie, who remained rooted in place across the room, said nothing still.

“You—”

She sputtered and shook her head as if unsure what words to choose. By her expression, she seemed conflicted. Her intent remained unclear even when she pushed herself away from the wall and approached with steps that seemed far more confident than what she must've felt. Curiosity and excitement bristled within Poppy, bubbling to the surface to make even the thin satin she wore feel much too warm.

Alisaie knelt before the tree and Poppy with a certain sort of reverence that was unexpected. “Opening a gift early, hm?” she asked. It was quiet and hair too serious for the situation at hand, as if Poppy asked her to commit a most grievous sin. “Do I truly deserve such an honor?”

Poppy very often played little tricks and other such silly games with her beloved. On most occasions, she was met with a retaliation of some sort or a scoff or rolling eyes at the very least. So, of all reactions, Poppy certainly wasn't expecting Alisaie to _play along_. She went still and silent just as Alisaie had, stunned that she’d somehow been bested by her own scheme.

“Of course you do,” she managed to stutter out in reply. Whatever quips or jokes she hoped to conjure failed her in the moment, leaving her to look like a flustered fool.

Alisaie considered the answer for a moment with a tilt of her head and a shameless gaze that swept slowly over what—or rather, who—was meant to be her gift. She followed the trail the ribbons wove across Poppy's body, leading her around curves and highlighting expanses of bared flesh. Her eyes were honest, as was the sneer that pulled up the corner of her mouth. It was enough to make Poppy feel far more exposed than she already was.

“If you insist,” Alisaie said, sounding formal and playful all at once. “I would be happy to oblige.”

Alisaie joined Poppy beneath the tree, sitting before her on the plush rug with legs crossed. She reached for Poppy with great care, like a cautious child on the morning of Starlight, and pulled her into her lap. Alisaie’s hands pressed against Poppy’s hips and lingered there even after the bewildered Warrior was settled against her, and her thumbs traced the outlines of ribbons wrapped around her waist, slipping beneath them and pulling as if to test their strength.

Poppy trembled, both from the cold and from the touch of Alisaie's curious fingertips. Sensing this, Alisaie reached for her hand and pulled it to her face, looking rather smug as she kissed Poppy’s palm and let her lips wander down to the bow tied around her wrist. Her teeth found the end and tugged. One, twice, and then three times—only to find that it wouldn’t budge.

She blinked and then flashed an accusatory look at Poppy, who smirked back at her. Though Alisaie had played along with no hesitation, the task at hand would not be so easy. Poppy's little present was not one without surprises, after all, and Alisaie's brow furrowed when she realized she’d underestimated her gift. But, she was nothing if not persistent, and pulled at the sturdy bow until the satin finally gave way and unraveled.

“Did you double knot _all_ of these bows?” Alisaie asked, incredulous and amused and annoyed all at once, somehow.

She gave the bow tied around Poppy's other wrist an experimental tug only to find that it was just as stubborn as the first. Her obvious exasperation widened Poppy's smirk into a toothy grin.

“Of course I did,” she replied with a playfully offended huff. “You should know by now that I never half-arse anything.”

Alisaie’s lips puckered into a pout, and Poppy's tail flicked behind her in triumphant amusement at the sight.

“At this rate, we’ll be here until next Starlight,” Alisaie muttered. Her fingers drummed against Poppy's sides for a moment, as she likely concocted a plan for her next move. It didn't take long for a spark of mischief to light up her eyes. “Unless, of course, I employ a bit of help,” she added.

Poppy couldn't get a word in before she was shoved down onto the rug. She let herself fall with an indignant little squeak and then blinked up at Alisaie, who smirked down at her, haloed by glittering branches and twinkling lights.

“What are you—”

“You should know by now,” Alisaie cut her off by repeating Poppy’s own words, “that I’m not gentle in unwrapping my gifts.”

The implication made something within Poppy come alive, something enticing and wholly pleasant in all its bristling heat. And when she saw the knife emerge from its hiding place somewhere amidst Alisaie's clothes, she knew she was in for a treat.

Carrying a knife was a habit that she'd picked up from Poppy—or rather, one that Poppy insisted on. And funny enough, the particular blade she held was a gift from the previous Starlight; a slender silver blade with an elegant bone handle wrapped in red leather, expertly crafted and chosen for its bearer with great care. Poppy admired it from her place on the floor, mesmerized by how the colorful lights strung above reflected off its polished edge as it drew nearer.

On a normal occasion, being sprawled beneath someone who held a blade would give Poppy cause to panic (and would end with her assailant’s own knife buried ilms deep into their gut). But it certainly was not a normal occasion, and Poppy only felt a certain sort of fluttering giddiness, one that made her muscles tense and her tail curl in anticipation.

The blade brushed Poppy's skin and began to slowly trace the outline of her jaw. She went still at its cold touch, tensing at the contact, and gazed up at Alisaie, who stared down at her with a soft smile writ on her face.

“May I?” she asked.

The knife lingered and grazed the corner of Poppy’s mouth, pressing against her bottom lip, barely, just so. Alisaie's hand was steady and firm, yet she paused there to wait for permission to continue.

“I told you to open your gift,” Poppy replied, just a bit incredulous despite how breathless she felt and sounded. Her tongue darted out and flicked against the tip of the blade to make her eagerness clear. “Didn't I?”

Alisaie’s smile sharpened, matching the edge of the knife as it trailed down Poppy's chin to her throat, where it slid across the surface of the ribbon tied there and then slipped underneath. She gave a gentle tug and the satin ripped beneath her grasp, fraying to shreds easily at the blade’s bite. It was sharp, that much was clear, and Poppy let out a shaky breath at the demonstration of its strength.

Alisaie's hand lingered and let the blade rest at Poppy's heightened pulse. It fluttered beneath the steel, a wild thrum of excitement matched with the smallest sliver of fear. It would've been so easy for Alisaie to harm her, to draw blood and to dig the knife deep into her flesh. But she didn't, and wouldn't. That vulnerability she felt and the trust she put in her partner was precisely what made Poppy tremble beneath her and want for more.

The blade continued down to its next target, though not before it stopped to drag against Poppy's collar bones with dangerous precision. Gooseflesh spread at the icy touch. Alisaie slid the knife against the tangle of ribbons wrapped around Poppy's chest, toyed with the large bow tied there for a moment, perhaps rueful to undo all of Poppy's hard work. She didn't hesitate for long, however, and soon the gold-edged satin yielded beneath sharp metal.

Poppy gasped when she was freed from the ribbon's grasp. Truth be told, it was a relief to have the stifling bow cut away. Alisaie seemed to agree with how she hummed her approval and shifted above, ducking her head to appreciate her work. The knife followed her eyes, slid between Poppy's exposed breasts, and slowed to tease the tops of both.

Poppy's claws sunk into the rug beneath her. Her back arched off the floor and she whined, low and soft from between her teeth. She looked up at Alisaie, at the branches above them with their ornaments and tinsel and lights that shimmered on the corners of her vision, blurring to a colorful and dreamy fog. Her beloved was too focused on the task at hand and the knife she held to respond, steady in her grasp as it made its way down Poppy's body. So careful and cautious, a silent and tender and loving worship of her that spoke with the honest edge of steel rather than words.

Alisaie made the knife crawl over each rib and slip down her stomach, where it stopped only to make short work of the ribbons wrapped around her waist. She outlined her scars, following the trails carved into Poppy’s skin by hands that meant to harm, ones that aimed to kill rather than please. Poppy shivered, flesh yielding beneath cold steel, the danger of subtle sharpness pressed to her skin making her head swim. It was always a marvel how her instincts could switch so easily based only on who held the blade. She whined again, impatient, but dared not move lest she feel the kiss of the knife's blade that would easily add another scar to her ever-growing collection.

But Alisaie was of the same mind, as she always was, and did not linger in one spot overlong. Ribbons were cut away with precision, unraveling in long strips of red and gold that spilled beneath them, not so unlike trails of blood that could just as easily spill. The bows on Poppy's thighs were undone, the soft skin there exposed and teased with too-gentle strokes. It was not long before the ones tied around Poppy’s hips were the last left.

Alisaie slipped the knife beneath the last large bow and gave it a sharp yank, tearing the satin away with an audible rip that clearly spoke her own impatience. And so Poppy was exposed, unwrapped and completely bare.

“So,” she said, just a bit breathless, “what do you think of your gift?”

Alisaie's gaze was nearly as sharp as the knife, its smouldering intensity just as pleasant as the press of steel as it took in every ilm of skin exposed by her hand. She tilted her head and hummed her appreciation once more while a smile curled her lips.

“As beautiful as expected,” she replied in a whisper, voice low and rough in a way that made Poppy shiver. “Though,” she added, “I have a gift to give you in return.”

She tapped the knife against Poppy's hips, idling tracing the outlines of the stripes that stretched across her skin there. There was a thread of mischief both in the words and the motion that made Poppy grin, a flash of sharp teeth and anticipation.

“That so?” Poppy purred.

Alisaie's hand slid downward dangerously, close enough to where Poppy could already guess what her gift might be. Before she could say so out loud, the blade gazed her lips—barely, but enough to confirm Alisaie's intent.

“Would you like it?” she asked.

Her voice was soft and words innocent despite how she flicked her wrist and let the tip of the knife brush against Poppy's clit. Poppy somehow managed to resist the urge to buck her hips upward to chase the spark of pleasure.

“Please,” she groaned.

Poppy was a bit upset when the knife pulled away, but didn't have to mourn its loss for very long. It switched hands and Alisaie soon held it against her again, pressed precariously against her pulse once more, while her fingers replaced the blade between Poppy's legs.

“Of course,” Alisaie whispered.

Alisaie wasted little time, as she always did. Poppy was slick already beneath her touch, left wanting from the blade’s maddening dance against her skin. It rested against her neck and held her in place as Alisaie's hand delivered her gift, pressed into the wetness caused by her own careful ministrations.

Fingers traced nerve and plunged inside, neither gentle nor slow. Poppy squirmed beneath the barrage, nails dug deep into the rug. The blade at her throat was insistent that she not move or risk a cut, and was still under it and the gaze that fell on her from above. She was vulnerable, bare beneath steel. But the trust she placed in Alisaie far outweighed any fear, turning to heat that bloomed against the fingers curled deep inside of her.

“Alisaie,” Poppy whispered and whined, so desperate for release.

Alisaie’s smile fell on her, and her head bowed to follow. Her breath was warm against Poppy’s cheek but her lips remained just out of reach, taunting and teasing the woman she held pinned beneath a thin barrier of steel.

The cold sharpness, a lingering and persistent threat that held no true danger, but was enough to made Poppy’s blood sing and her heart pound so loud and fast that she couldn’t hold on for very long. That and the expert thrust of Alisaie's fingers was enough to send her over the edge in no time at all. She shuddered and came undone, unraveling like the ribbons Alisaie undid from her gift, defeated by a blade that need not drink her blood to claim victory.

As Poppy trembled in her afterglow, Alisaie returned the knife to its hiding spot. She smirked—a proud but adoring expression—and ducked her head, pressing a kiss to Poppy's brow.

“How was that?” she asked. “A gift worthy in exchange of yours, I hope.”

Poppy laughed, tensed muscles finally going slack. She threw her arms around Alisaie’s neck and pulled her down until their bodies were flush, finally able to touch her beloved and show her thanks. Alisaie laughed in turn and Poppy swallowed the sound as it slipped past her parted lips, basking in the warmth of it and their closeness.

“We should open gifts early more often,” Poppy said between breaths, hungrily devouring every kiss given in return.

“Agreed,” Alisaie said, smiling against Poppy's own broad smile.

They huddled together beneath the tree, both satisfied by the gifts given to one another. The Starlight season was known for such surprises, and Poppy hoped more would follow. Preferably wrapped with pretty bows and placed beneath festive boughs, meant to be torn open with eager hands and, perhaps, sharp blades.

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to [Daxolotl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxolotl) for the title. 
> 
> i don't have anything to say for myself except it's 2020 and i'm allowed to be feral. merry belated christmas and happy holidays!! may next year be less bad.


End file.
